


A Moment in Time Changed

by Turtlepearlove



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, F/M, Fem!Harry, girl!Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-20
Updated: 2014-11-20
Packaged: 2017-12-12 10:01:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/810305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Turtlepearlove/pseuds/Turtlepearlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every change leads to a different decision. How different would Draco's choice be if the 'Chosen one' was a girl? Would history take a different course?<br/>A work on a female Harry and the choices both Harry and Draco make.<br/>Wherein Draco choses not to fight and history changes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The drapes were drawn enough and yet the faintest sunlight that poured through irritated his eyes. He wanted to shout for the elves to cast a charm over it, or something to prevent the sunlight from filtering in but his throat was sore. Even a scream sounded like a whisper in the big empty room, Draco groaned.

He could hear the faint sounds from the outside world, his door opening as someone padded in. In any other circumstance Draco would have sat straight and refused to show how vulnerable he was, but given his condition that was not possible.

He could feel the bed dip as he squinted to see who it was, the soft hand on his hair was answer enough "Mother" he whispered.

"Why do you do this Draco?" She sounded pained, the unmistakable crack at the end of her voice.

'If you wanted to help you should have brought a healing salve instead', Draco doesn't voice his uncharitable thoughts, he curls further into a ball as his mother idly strokes his hair.

It was years before that he put a stop to this, or rather his father said "stop fussing Narcissa; you don't want the boy growing up to be a pansy".

He shrugged off his mom's hands then and refused to let her touch his hair anymore, he had forgotten how comforting those simple gestures were.

"Your father..." she begins, her hand stilling, he knows his mother is choosing her words carefully. She doesn't want to sound disapproving, but he knows she had struggled to contain herself during the ordeal.

Watching her only son suffer through multiple terms of cruciatus wasn't a fate any mother wished to have, but there was a need. And no matter how much Draco hated his father at the moment he had understood that too.

His refusal to the Dark Lord would come at a price.

"We can't protect you always" she says instead.

He knows this to be true, though for a moment he just wants to curl up and complain about the unfairness of it all. He was still 16, not even old enough to do magic outside the hallways and classrooms of Hogwarts, he was too young to take up burdens that the Dark Lord expected him to, no matter what honour everyone would perceive it to be.

'Stupid Potter' he thought viciously, it always burned down to her.

Her and her vigilante group of friends perpetually in trouble, it was splashed across the papers too. How Potter had broke into the Ministry of Magic, something to do with a prophesy and the Dark Lord in battle.

No Potter had screamed in the middle of history of magic and ran out during her owls. She had been brought back to the castle in secrecy.

Draco would never admit to roaming in the hallways waiting for her, after all the end of the year Potter adventure was a Hogwarts tradition.

He didn't want to see her smug, gloating face, another victory against powers unknown, with sheer luck and audacity, and all that would culminate to her victory in the house cup.

The castle was draped in darkness as the floo in the nurse's office flared and for a short while Draco stood there frozen in anticipation.

The troop that followed weren't quite a surprise, Longbottom looked worse for wear supporting an equally bad female Weasley, Lovegood stumbled after her blonde hair looking singed with Granger and the Weasley. Dumbledore seemed to be levitating Potter behind him as Madam Pomfrey fussed about them.

Draco who never particularly liked Dumbledore still believed the man to be extremely powerful, was surprised to see that he looked worried, exhausted and old.

His eyes slid back to Potter on the bed, she was awake now as Madam Pomfrey tried making her drink something, she was shaking her head.

Stupid stubborn Potter.

It was unmistakable the worrying looking that Weasley and Granger kept shooting her, it was Potter who spoke up finally.

Draco was too far away to hear what exactly was asked, an outsider looking in, he couldn't move any closer without letting the others know.

When Granger nodded to Potter's question, it was Dumbledore who placed his arm over Potter's shoulders. Her eyes widening in shock, as if she couldn't believe what she heard was true.

She doubled over like she was in pain and as Madam Pomfrey bustled towards her; a subtle nod from Dumbleore prevented her.

There was something utterly heartbreaking about the way Potter huddled in herself, bent over like she was suffering some unbearable agony, like nothing in the world would make her better.

Draco didn't know what was being said, but no one made a move to touch her, Potter looked like she was shivering and yet there was no trace of tears.

Not that he ever harboured any soft spot for Potter and her rag tag team of Gryffindors, but at that moment Draco realised how vulnerable Potter was.

His greatest enemy was on a hospital bed crying and Draco didn't feel so victorious after all.

That his 'greatest enemy' was a 15 year old girl who liked like her heart had been ripped out and Draco felt wretched.

He couldn't take his eyes away from her form, like an accident you couldn't drag your eyes away from. There was no reason this 15 year old girl was going to save the wizarding world, her fingers gripping the edge of the bed tight enough to tear the cloth.

There was nothing pretty about the sight, of human weakness and sorrow, of being broken enough that there was nothing left to fix. He wanted to shake her, grip her bony shoulders and shake her till she screamed

"how are you going to save us Potter?"

"How are you going to save me?"

But Potter didn't provide him the answers as Pomfrey force fed her a potion that looked like a calming drought, she gulped it down, her grip on the sheets loosening till she was placed back on to the bed.

Draco tore his eyes away from her as he trudged his way back to his dorms.

Dumbledore's eyes briefly flitted across where Draco was standing, almost unseeing.

The next day, the Daily Prophet would scream the death eater attack on Potter, the chosen one and the news of Sirius Black's unfair incarceration and death.

His eyes would flit to the Gryffindor table where she was notably absent.

\---

"Draco reconsider your decision!"

It was not a question but a statement, and even though Draco wanted to choke on his tongue he didn't change his mind.

"No father, I cannot accept the dark mark"

"Crucio"


	2. In the woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Harry struggles in the forest, she wonders about certain fair-haired git.

The forest is unusually cold, not that Harry didn't expect it, but expecting and experiencing are vastly different things she comes to learn.

The bed feels lumpy beneath her back and she is cold. The wind howls outside as she curls further into the mattress, even the wind doesn't completely block out the sounds of argument from outside.

She hates it all, the constant arguments, the bitter wind, the inevitability of war and the locket. The horrid locket that weighs down on her like a mountain, making everything seem so much worse.

"Harry Dinner" Hermione's words are sharp, snap her out of her revere.

In the beginning of their 'trip' Harry had mostly done the cooking, thanks to her upbringing by the Dursley's she could make her way around a stove, but as supplies dwindled and tempers flared, Harry was no longer willing to cook every meal.

Hermione's cooking is mostly awful, but by the end of their miserable trekking she is mostly ready to eat just about anything.

Ron is stone faced as he sits opposite to her, doesn't make eye contact as Hermione pour them some kind of broth. Harry pretends that she doesn't notice the prominent red rimmed eyes that Hermione spots, instead takes a spoonful of her broth.

"It's delicious 'Mione"

Hermione smiles weakly as she sits next to Harriet helping herself to the broth.

"How long have we been here" Ron's impatient voice ruins the momentary calm, Harry glares at him.

"What do you think Ron?"

"It's the necklace" Hermione cries out "It's what makes you so damn moody"

Harriet is surprised to see Hermione curse looks at her taken aback, Ron is pissed off enough to throw the necklace on the table as he storms away.

Hermione bursts into tears as Harry pats her back awkwardly.

It's alarmingly early when she crawls back into her lumpy bed, "Tomorrow we trek 500 miles east" Hermione announces to the room, she doesn't wait for a reply as she puts out the only lamp effectively plunging them into darkness.

It takes Harry a long time to realize that she can't sleep, her mind still tugging anxiously. She groans softly at its implications but doesn't make an throw off her blankets.

6th Year was one of the worst years by far, Dumbledore's murder was a shock, the fact that a 16 year old Theodore Nott performed it was even more horrifying. For a long time she had suspected Malfoy of foul play, it would just be like him to do something so despicable.

She sighs again, when had she spent so much of her thoughts on Malfoy. Instead of concentrating on things such as finding a boyfriend, she spent most of 6th year stalking Malfoy around the castle.

It was by the end of the year she had learned that the older Malfoy was currently out of prison. The embarrassing fact was that despie her suspicions towards Draco he had helped several younger years hide in the Slytherin dungeons during the attack on the castle.

The bitter wind felt like a sharp slap on her face as she stepped outside. She rubbed her palms together hoping to generate some heat, she remembered Malfoy, walking around his head held high. That head of silver blonde really did stand out in a crowd.

She wondered if it was unusual to think so much about Draco, after all they did spend most of school year antagonising each other.

She unfolded the marauder's map in trepidation, tracing her fingers along the people she had left behind, thankful at the knowledge that Ginny was safe in her bed, so was Neville, Dean, Seamus and Luna.

Her eyes finally rested on the set of footprints that proclaimed 'Draco Malfoy', the pacing in his dorm room was nothing unusual. She wondered what kept him awake at night, wondered if he too was worrying about is parents.

She folded the marauders map and slowly crawled back into bed, it was a bad habit she knew. But she couldn't help but make sure that everyone she loved was alive and well.

The last treacherous thought that filled her mind was the fact whether Draco too had worried, had wondered about her sudden absence.


	3. I open at the close

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Harriet realizes the truth about her life she finds comfort from an unexpected source.

When Harriet stumbled down from Dumbledore's room, her thoughts were in a chaos. In a lot of ways the inevitability scared her, the way Snape had held her mother, the painful, horrible way in which he seemed to have lived his life. The ache of the memory seemed so strong that even Dumbledore's betrayal just left the taste of tears in her mouth. That she let herself feel a faint amusement, that at the thought of death her heart would pound more fiercely, more valiantly, to keep her alive.

She thought of her own stupidity, the foolish faith that somehow she was marked for a mission, the belief that Voldemort was to die. Yet here she was, on the stairways to the Great hall, realizing that she was marked for death instead. Her time in this world measured even before she could walk or talk, the time left, measured in heartbeats (a walk till the edge of the Forbidden forest). She thought of the people she loved, the people she imagined a future with, a brief fleeting thought that someday she would have her picket white fence and 2.5 children, a family that she could finally belong to. But what right did she have to a future when so many were cruelly ripped apart because of her, the faces of Cedric, Sirius, Tonks, Remus, Fred, flashed before her mind.

As she passed through the Great Hall she could see bodies being moved, on Oliver Wood's shoulders was the flash of pale hair that made her heart lurch. Colin Creevy, underage, had snuck back in to fight the battle, his body looked tiny in death.

Harriet spotted Neville in the hallways, the need to say goodbye suddenly felt overwhelming.

"Neville" she whispered.

Neville jumped in evident shock "Hariet, what are you doing alone?"

"Listen, Voldemort has a snake named Nagini, she has to be killed"

Neville looked surprised by the statement, but didn't question further.

"Ron and Hermione know...but..."

The wretchedness of the thought stopped her, the fact that she wasn't even able to complete what she had set out to.

"Are you okay?" Neville asked instead, concern clouding his eyes, "you are not about to do anything stupid are you?"

The question brought a wry smile to her lips, "No" she answered, another body was brought in as Neville's attention diverted.

"You take care" Before he could look back, Harriet was gone.

She passed through the familiar great hall, the one that she had spent countless days in, now a sanctuary for the injured and the dead. She could feel the anguish rising up in her again; Malfoy was tending to a smaller Ravenclaw girl, her tiny hands in his grip.

In the inevitability of oncoming death she let herself stare, that unmistakable blonde hair, the familiar pointed features that she had grown to despise, the fact that in her picketed house of her dreams sometimes the children had blonde hair.

In all their heated arguments, she briefly wondered if he thought of her, if he would remember her someday.

She dragged her eyes away, as Malfoy looked up suddenly, almost as if he sensed her presence. She didn't dare look back as she walked on.

The forbidden forest looked even darker and threatening in the aftermath of the war, she could feel the icy chillness of dementors roaming as she uncloaked herself. She tried to take a deep calming breath, trying not to choke on the overwhelming dread. She wanted to buckle under and not walk a step further, be dragged back and told that she did not have to die.

Cold fingers wrapped around her wrist and pulled her back

"And where do you think you are going Potter?"

She almost wanted to smile, how predictable that Malfoy would be the last one to see her alive, to make the impossible task harder.

"What do you think Malfoy?"

Her voice held no venom and when she turned to face him, he looked tired, older and sadder

"You can't go"

His grip on her wrist would bruise, she didn't complain "this is how it ends, even you know that"

"We will fight" the words sounded strange coming from his mouth, but she did not doubt his sincerity, his eyes looked imploring.

"no"

"You can't go, I will come with you"

"Don't be stupid Draco, I am supposed to go, this is how it ends"

He looked like he wanted to punch her "what the fuck does that even mean Potter, do you think we all fought here for nothing, all that death just so you could go ahead and sacrifice yourself"

"Do you think I WANT to die?" she wrenched free from his grip glaring at him "do you think I want to die at 17, do you think this is the life I wanted to make for myself"

The words came tumbling down in anger in frustration, "all this was orchestrated before I could walk Malfoy, I am the final piece to his death, haven't you wondered about my ability to speak to snakes? When I die this connection is severed Malfoy, when I die he is mortal again"

Draco's jaws were set, when Harriet realized that she was crying. She wiped her tears away hastily "Lets run away then"

The words surprised her "Let's go to France then, father has a chateau, or we could live as muggles, I don't care Potter, anything is better than giving up your life for the greater good"

The laugh surprised her, drawn from her throat she was surprised she was capable of sounding so hollow "You know it is not possible"

"Then let's find a way, there must be some way"

It was then she noticed how wretched his voice sounded, that she was so busy self pitying that she didn't notice the tell tale cracks in his voice, the wetness in his eyes, the smudges of soot in his face. She winded her fingers around his, at how easily their fingers entwined, that other than her awkward date with Dean in fifth year she never even had a chance to hold someone's hands.

"I could have loved you"

His eyes widened at her statement, "I know it sounds stupid, but I can't tell you that I love you, I don't know you enough for that"

Her breath rattled in the ensuing silence "But I want you to know that you were the closest to love, the closest I've ever come to feeling that way..."

"Even if I never admitted how much I hated seeing Parkinson with you"

They both cracked into a wry grin at that, "I have to go" she said reluctantly unwinding her fingers, she missed the warmth almost immediately.

Before she could take a step away from him, he cupped her face in his palms "Potter" his voice broke "Harriet", his lips felt cold against her. For a moment in surprise, her eyes were wide open, she would see his blonde lashes were darker up close, she could see faint freckles on his pale skin, she could see the wetness in his lashes before she closed her eyes.

He kissed hungrily, overwhelmingly, all teeth and bite that she ached. Her fingers curling into fists as she felt the wetness of his tongue, the possession that he sought from her, that for the moment she let him take control, let herself be swept into his arms. He parted reluctantly "I am sorry" he breathed out "I had to know how that felt"

She could feel the corners of his lips quirk in that familiar smirk, she didn't want to open her eyes "I would have kissed you sooner if I knew you were this good" he kissed her again, this time softer, pleading "don't go Harriet" his grip of her waist didn't loosen.

Harriet did what she had to do before she could comprehend her action "Petrificus Totalus" she breathed out as Draco's eyes widened in horror.

"I am sorry"

"It will be over by the time you wake up, this could keep you safe" She placed her invisibility cloak over his body, one last kiss upon his frozen forehead before she let him disappear. She faintly cast wards over just in case, a final glance at nothing, she levitated his body towards the gates of the castle. And without looking back she walked into the Forbidden Forest one last time.

"Is Draco alive? Is he in the castle?"

The whisper was barely audible; her lips were an inch from her ear, her head bent so low that her long hair shielded Harriet's face from the onlookers.

"Yes," she breathed back.

She felt the hand on her chest contract; her nails pierced her. Then it was withdrawn. She had sat up.

"She is dead!" Narcissa Malfoy called to the watchers.

.ii. Undefeated

When Draco found out he could move his arms again, it was almost a lifetime gone, that even Potter's softly uttered charm had rendered him utterly powerless.

He lay on the cold, hard ground unmoving, briefly contemplating going after her, of making her agree to run away. To admit that when he talked about the chateau in France he had imagined it, Potter in her oversized awful maroon jumper, her untameable hair, her vivid green eyes smiling at him, that he wanted to keep her safe, hide her away in a world just for them.

He laughed at the absurdity of it all, it was a clear sky. The stars twinkled, far away and peaceful, behind his closed eyelids he could see her eyes.

The screams in the castle roared, jolting him out of his revere. He contemplated lying there unmoving, of letting the death eaters find him with Potter's cloak in his arms defiant.

He rose up nevertheless and dragged himself to the castle entrance.

The Dark lord's triumphant speech held no interest to him, his eyes resting on the prone form in Hagrid's arms.

For a minute he felt his heart stop.

She looked small in his hulking frame, her hair still wild and singed, her glasses crooked, her lips pale and lifeless, her eyes closed.

He closed his eyes.

Neville was speaking now, something about bravery, about continuing this fight till the very end.

Hagrid had laid her onto the ground, he wondered how cold it would be.

Poor, brave, stupid Potter.

Across the masses, he could see his mother's imploring eyes, he looked away and clenched his eyes shut blinking away tears.

Malfoy's don't cry in public.

His father had said that to him when he was 6 and wailing for the brand new broom, he had shut up pretty quickly after that, his father who stood weathered and old, holding his mother's arms. He didn't look proud and undefeatable as he once did.

How wrong they all were! When they told him the most important thing was family, that he was supposed to be the one to make their family proud.

Bravery, faith, loyalty, nothing mattered anymore, nothing he did or said could bring her back.

He wondered if she felt cold.

.iii. Untouchable

The last battle was as dramatic as history books would later write.

Neville Longbottom had slayed Nagini with Griffindor's sword, Molly Weasley had killed Bellatrix Lestrange and Harriet Potter had risen from the dead.

For a brief moment he had felt a shield charm when he battled Avery, he hadn't turned back.

Not that it mattered anymore, Potter had stood there in all her glory as she recalled the story of the legendary elder wand, of how Nott disarming Dumbledore and not Snape as Voldemort assumed. Of the elder wand's true master, that Voldemort's own killing curse had rebounded.

When he fell down in the dull thud, death rendering him nothing but a frail creature that looked barely human.

And Potter had won that war.

In all her glory of wild hair and glasses askew, seventeen year old Harriet Potter had killed the greatest dark lord in history. The masses had cheered and rushed forth.

And Draco saw her for what she really was.

He felt his mother's frail fingers biting into his shoulders "Dragon" she breathed out engulfing him in a hug. He let himself sag, in his mother's arms he was still the most important, the most needed.

In the circle of his parent's arms he let relief show, that even in the anguish of heartbreak he was happy they all survived. And that she had too, that in a way they all had their happy ending.

"Let's go home Draco" his father's voice sounded tired.

There would be trials now, his father's dark mark and his mother's loyalty, but he was glad that his forearms were unmarked, but for now he let himself imagine, of a peaceful day in the manor and his bed still waiting.

He didn't look back as he felt the weight of his father's arms around him, tired and weary. He balanced them both as he apparated back to the manner.

He didn't look back.


	4. Part II- New beginnings

Harriet attempted to burrow herself into the bed but Kreacher's voice was incessant as always "Mistress has to get up, Mistress has guests"

The month had been exhausting to say the least; she had spend most of her days attending funerals, even the ones that she wasn't invited to. Against the backdrop of black she stood in for Goyle's funeral, no one had spared her a glance and when she sees Draco step up to place flowers her heart freezes. She refuses to think how her heart stutters, his face a cold mask. She pushes down the urge to hold his hand and tell him that it's alright.

She peeked through her heavy covers to see Kreacher's impatient face and sighed "I am getting up", for the most part she had vehemently avoided human company. She had felt materially obligated to assist in the funerals as somehow the war was brought upon their doorsteps because of her. She had stood in for trials too, on Fenrir Greyback who was sentenced to death, for the Carrows that Ginny and Neville joined in regaling their tales of terror and for the Malfoy's at the very end.

Harriet had been honest to fault, when she was called upon to the witness stand, she had honestly narrated the incident in the department of mysteries, Lucius Malfoy's involvement in the war, his later reluctance where his wife and son were held as bargaining chips. Maybe it was Narcissa Malfoy's involvement in saving Harriet's life, or Draco's involvement in the war itself that Lucius's five year imprisonment in the Dementor free Azkaban was a light sentence.

Harriet was surprised to see a tanned Hermione on her couch instead "Mione" she breathed out only to get an armful of skinny limbs and bushy brown hair "I missed you too" she grinned.

"How have you been?"

Her eyes look appraising, disapproving at Harriet's over sized jumper and dark circles, she shrugged uncomfortably "As good as one can be"

"That's not an answer"

Harriet's returning grin is fleeting "How was Australia?"

Hermione's missives were infrequent, the wizarding international post was unreliable at it's best. Harry had worried nevertheless, the complications of such a heavy memory charm, their reaction on learning the truth wouldn't have been easy.

"They have agreed to return" she said softly, "But I am yet to earn back their trust"

Harriet nodded in understanding, even Molly Weasley had choice words to say upon learning what Hermione had chose to do. But it was war then and everyone had to make difficult choices.

"Andromeda sent me a letter"

Harry doesn't hide her surprise, "she had asked me to check on you"

Harriet feels the familiar pool of guilt settling in her stomach, she had made Andy worry, Andromeda who had lost a daughter and a husband, who was taking care of a six month old.

Harry doesn't have the luxury of sympathy, just weariness that sinks into her bones and stays there like a heavy shroud.

She had taken a walk in diagon alley, rebuilding and magic putting back a ruined street. Eyes had lingered longer before people crowded and she had to leave amongst tears and threats of feeling claustrophobic.

"you should get out of the house"

Hermione looked lovely, even with the bushy hair and her cheekbones sharp and hollow never quiet recovered from their one year trip into the wilderness. There is still the scar in her arm "mudblood" in faded skin, and eyes still brown, lovely and kind.

"I will" she said, because the thought of worrying anyone anymore was scary "and write to Andy"

Harriet knows she is under dressed the minute she steps into the streets, the cold air nips and bites and the warming charms slides off her skin like stinksap. The muggles hurry past jostling her as she winds her over coat tighter. There are a few wayward glances and looks and Harry wonders if she stands out just as much, like a sore thumb.

For a second she is half convinced, that there is something hideous about her ducks her head. Like an invisible barrier surrounding her, is glad when she spots Andromeda's house.

Like most wizarding houses, post war, was heavily warded. Most people unwilling to risk their lives for any stray death eater's wrath, especially considering the house also contained the six month son of two famous soldiers.

Harriet waited patiently for the wards to accept her before the door slid open, "Andy" she called out, "are you in there?"

She was surprised to see who was sitting in their dinning room, the familiar head of white blonde hair signature of the Malfoy family. She took a step back, muscles tightening involuntarily, even though it was with the help of Narcissa that she made it through the forest alive she still couldn't be at ease around the woman.

"Oh Harry you are here" Andy said smiling widely, the black circles evident around her kind brown eyes. Harry couldn't help the flinch of guilt that ran through her, she was supposed to be Teddy's godmother, she was supposed to be more involved. For the last few months she had been self indulgent in wallowing in her own misery instead of watching out for the people she loved.

"Hello Mrs. Malfoy"

Narcissa nodded at her, her lips into a thin smile as Harry settled on the couch farthest away from her.

"Where is Teddy?"

"Oh he is with Draco"

Harry barely had a moment's notice before Draco walked through the kitchen to the dinning room with Teddy in his arms.

It would have been funny if she wasn't personally involved in the scene, the slight widening of Draco's eyes and his 'deer in headlights' expression, if only Harriet was faring any better.

They hadn't seen each other in any other circumstances, the last she had seen of him was in battle ad before that...

Harriet blushed a vivid red, Draco looked away as well.

It was strange how their relationship suddenly seemed definable, those familiar features that always brought the worst of her temper brought a different emotion all together in her mind.

He looked relaxed, in a white button down shirt and pants, his sleeves rolled up and his robes draped on the back of his chair. He looked thinned, the sharp jut of his cheekbones more prominent, his lips a little paler, his gelled back hair seemed longer, past his ears in an artful disarray. Even with teddy blowing spit bubbles in his arms he looked impeccable, good.

"I keep forgetting you are in the same year" Andy said, breaking the odd sort of silence that had fallen upon them, "you two must know each other then"

It was Draco who chose to answer "Yes", but Narcissa's laughter was unmistakable.

"Of course they know each other Andy" she said "they have been at each other's neck from first year"

Even though her words were said in jest, her eyes looked at Harriet speculatively, as if she was a missing piece of some puzzle.

Narcissa Malfoy had chosen to talk to Andromeda again for several reasons, the wizarding world was in a state of flux, as would have been post any war. If Narcissa could describe in her own words she would have chosen the French revolution, whether Harry was aware of it or not she had not just overthrown Voldemort but also a system that believed that purebloods were better. And it was easier too, considering that well established purebloods controlled the wizarding world's finances and owned their shares in every major wizarding establishment.

When Harriet had overthrown him, at 17 no less, everyone had to give up on ideals. No longer was it acceptable to be a pureblood, time honored traditions were cast aside for people clamoring for attention from the so called light side.

It was strange all things considered, that if the dark lord had not existed, even Potter's parents would have been trying their best to fit into the same social circles.

Narcissa Malfoy shouldn't have been surprised to see Harriet's presence at Andromeda's house. After all it was well known that Lupin had been an inseparable part of their little clique in school of which Potter's father had been part of.

Even she had wondered about the Potter heir, he was handsome, from a well to do pureblood family and maybe if he wasn't in love with mudblood Evans from second year she might have spared him a second glance.

Despite having terribly good looking parents, the potter scion wasn't particularly eye catching. She had inherited her father's hair and nose that was too sharp on her face, her lips too thin and hair too dark for her pale complexion.

Yet she couldn't draw her eyes away from the aura of power that surrounded the girl, the vivid sort of green in her eyes, the sharp panes of her cheeks, a sort of beauty in imperfection that even Narcissa had to concede. She could be handsome, she thought, with the right clothes and grooming.

For now the Potter heir sat hunched, shoulders drawn and defensive, her long hair masking her face.

It was surprising change when Draco came into the room, her son who was so like his father in masking his feeling, had surprise on his face. Narcissa found the flush of pink that crawled up his face endearing, after all Draco hadn't blushed past the age of six.

Potter's fingers curled against the armrests as she averted her eyes, while Draco's eyes lingered drawing her in, an expression so hungry that even Narcissa felt that she was intruding on a private moment.

Draco was always entitled in a way that only a single child could quite master, and Narcissa even encouraged it considering that he was born into much better circumstances than she had. The ancient and noble house of Black was crumbling at the edges, of insanity that crept in through the dark corners and she had escaped to the Malfoy household. Of ruthless power and ambition, for the faint softening in Lucius's eyes that she knew was for her, only for her.

She loved Draco, he was not born out of necessity, not out of the want of heir like her. He was born because she wanted him to be, after she had picked out the colours for his nursery and the constellation he would be named after, after Lucius had asked, sometime in the dark with a strange vulnerability in the tilt of his voice "do you ever think about having children?" she had decided that she would give him that, a child.

Draco drags is eyes away like he is ashamed, for wanting her, for the want of her and Narcissa finally understands his defiance in the face of his father's anger, it was not teenage rebellion as she had understood, it was not growing up as she had hoped, it was love instead- like she had feared.


	5. Chapter 5

The railway station was empty when she stepped in, having only ever seen the hustle bustle of rushing students it was odd to see the place so quiet. Harriet found herself in an empty coach, the one that they had somehow managed to find from the very first year, and settled down. She pulled out a worn copy of ‘Pride and Prejudice’ and thumbed it through. 

It was funny that after coming to Hogwarts she had lost interest in fantasy entirely. It was impossible to read through such a book without criticising the size of their dragons or the factual incorrectness of it all. But that was the funny part, for the billions of muggles that lived all around the world it was mere fiction, they did not live in the abject fear of being burned alive by a dragon, or being stomped to death by a troll. All fantasy books had ceased to be an escape.

The sound of the door opening startled her, as she looked at the familiar mop of red hair and dark circles and the sweeping hug that momentarily stole her breath.  
Ron looked weary, a sort of weary that she wasn’t familiar with, older and more tired. Every time she looked at Ron she couldn’t help but wonder how much happier his life would have been if it not were for her.

The Weasley’s had their childhood home burned down, they had lost one of their own, disfigured another, all because their youngest had decided to befriend that girl with oversized clothes and a scar.

And every time she looked at him she couldn’t help but be reminded of that fact, the world weary 17 year old, all because of her.

Hermione trailed in behind him, a forced smile on her face “you are here early”

“Wanted to get here before the crowds”

Ron nodded, “we had to set up extra wards because of people visiting the house”

They settled into a silence again, it was not easy or companionable sort of silence but Ron looked tired and Harry felt tired and Hermione’s attempts at light hearted conversation wasn’t making anything better.

The silence outside eventually dissipates with incoming families and noisy children and Hermione tonelessly sets the wards in their compartment.  
The glasses were not clear enough for Harry to make out faces, but briefly she thought she had seen someone she recognized only to look at the faces of chatting 11 year olds eager to start their new year at Hogwarts.

The castle of Hogwarts brought a sense of palatable relief, in here she was safe once from the Dursley’s, the dark lord or the hounding reporters.

The table felt familiar, the rows and rows of students and the shaky first years soon t be brought in.

“Well I didn’t see you in the train Ron” Harry looked up to see Ginny weasley talking to her brother, her tone sounds light but there is a silent reproach.

“He was sitting with Harry”

Ginny’s eyes briefly flickered over where Harry was seated, emotions passing through her face none of which she could quite place, but Ginny gave a brief nod and settled back in her seat, she didn't look at Harry again.

The sorting itself was a subdued affair, no one could quite shake off the tragedy in those walls and the first years were too small to understand the implication. The most marked difference was perhaps the almost empty Slytherin tables, a handful of 6th and 7th years or the little girl in pigtails who burst into sobs at the fact that she was Slytherin. Harriet’s eyes swept over the table, and settled on that unmistakable blonde head. For a second she felt choked, like someone had her by the throat, painfully squeezing out every breath of air. 

Draco sat with his head held high, impeccably dressed and not a hair out of place. He gave polite claps and nods to every first year that got sorted; he looked like he was prepared for a fight. For the brief moment that their eyes met across the room she felt that she could breathe again, but he turned away, the faintest hint of pink around his cheeks.

Harriet was surprised at the fact that no one approached her, there were giggles, whispers and open looks of awe that made her skin itch, yet no one really came forward, they all stared like she was an exhibit, a rare thing at some museum. She stumbled into the room, the Spartan rooms for the handful of eighth years that had returned. Yet sinking into her comfortable bed she couldn’t complain, she was glad for the privacy that it provided.

She was unaware of the low buzz that surrounded the hall when their time tables were handed out, it wasn’t until Ron’s exclamation that she looked at her own time-table in surprise.

‘Magical cooperation and ethics’

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Hermione was the one who answered “I suppose it is needed” there is a wry twist to her lips “A bit late in coming, but an attempt to foster some sort of unity in the Wizarding world”

The approval for Hermione’s statement was immediate, though Harry personally felt it was too little too late.

“History is always written by the victors isn’t it?”

The people surrounding Malfoy looked up in shock, half forgetting that he was there and the other half offended that he had spoken.  
...

Harry wasn’t surprised at how horrible her day had been, first days were never the best in any case. She was aware of the looks and whispers that followed, half in awe and half in fear, the belief that she was powerful did not diminish their attitude towards her.

"Why does she need to come back to school? What could Hogwarts teach her?"

Harry walked slowly to the care of magical creatures, lagging behind so that she could join the crowd without drawing its attention. 

The new teacher, in the temporary absence of Hagrid was a stern sort of woman.

Harry stood at the periphery of the group, far away enough to be alone, near enough to hear.

“Not joining your adoring fans Potter”

There was an upturned quirk to his thin lips; she would have been offended except she was amused.

“Scared of crowds Malfoy, afraid they will rise up in pitchforks and torches?”

He doesn’t reply at all, and Harry feels something settle in the pit of her stomach, warm and companionable.  
She wonders if anyone has noticed that people have divided into pairs already, war is the greatest aphrodisiac Andromeda had joked, she wondered how true that was.

“Each pair will be given a Diricawl each and instructions on how to handle it” Harry only heard the tail end of that instructions and students began walking towards the shed to gather gathering what appeared to be big greyish eggs.

“This is an odd experiment” She remarked as she followed the long line.

“A better one that anything Hagrid has taught us”

It was foolish of her to have even expected that Malfoy’s stance would ever be any different, “Don’t you dare...” she began, fists curling.

His face is impassive “you never did take well to criticism, no matter how justified” and walks ahead.

By the time she reaches the shed, there are no eggs left except the one in Malfoy’s arms.

“Malfoy and Potter” the teacher said signing off the last of her list.

She wanted to draw back, throw a tantrum that she didn’t want to spend any more time with his than necessary.

“I will keep it tonight Potter” he said “you can have it tomorrow”  
He walked away before she could respond.


	6. Chapter 6

 

Ginny was sitting amidst a group of girls, it was weird. Harry had never thought of her in school, if she had friends outside. Her Ginny was the 11 year who had blushed beet red at the sign of Harry at their dinning table, her Ginny who send her a valentine in the third.

There are girls in the room she doesn’t recognise, the brown haired one she had seen in the burrow and a couple of others.

“Ginny”

The smile that hadn’t disappeared from the curve of her mouth vanished when she saw Harry.

“Harriet”

A polite nod “what do you want?”

“Let’s take a walk?”

Ginny seemed to hesitate a moment before standing up and straightening her skirt “Yea sure”

There were a million things she wanted to ask, but they all seemed to die at her throat.

“How are you?”

“I am fine”

There was more silence, the awkward uncomfortable sort. Even at their worst Ginny wasn’t the one to shy away from confrontations. But now there seemed to be nothing that Harry could say to her.

“Are you mad at me?”

She didn’t intend to blurt it out, but she was never the one but subtle social cues.

Ginny continued walking, didn’t respond for a while.

“Not entirely”

Harry wasn’t stupid to think that she and Ginny had been a conventional couple, for the longest time she was convinced that all Ginny had was an embarrassing crush. Her dating guys sealed the deal, but Ginny was the one who had made her feel. Like a giant monster clawing her chest every time she saw him with someone else. She expected a happy ending, with them, they were supposed to be her reward at the end of the battle.

“I just need time Harry”

She doesn’t meet his eyes, sweater looks soft, pale pink highlights her cheeks. She looks beautiful and alive, Harry can no longer distinguish love and envy.

She walked away with grace that Harry could never imitate, her dark red hair that looked so vivid that it seems stark against the darkness of the castle. Harry is jolted back to reality when someone thumped her back.

A group of giggling Hufflepuffs passed her “are you alright?”

He had a pleasant sort of smile; Harry was momentarily taken aback by its intensity towards her. “Let me walk you back to the common room, you look a bit shaken”

His palms on the middle of her back gently guided towards the hallways, a couple of passing girls seem to smile at her. The whole scene seemed oddly intimate, Harry wanted to move away withut seeming offensive.

By the time she had thought of a way to do that they seemed to have reached the common room.

He smiled at her “here we are”

“Yes”

Harry tried to smile, she was sure she looked demented at the way that the smile off slid off his face.

“See you around Harry” he said while attempting to hurry off.

 ...

 

Harry woke up with a scream lodged in her throat, for a moment it was darkness and she was desperate.

It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to her usual sight of her four poster bed. The time was just 4.30, the sky was still as dark as night.

She swung her legs over the bed and made her way to the showers quietly, Hermione shuffled in her sleep.

The hallways always had huge open window, Harry thanks the makers when the faint trickle of sunlight is sufficient to guide her way.

The changing rooms and empty and dark, even with her wand and relative silence, she changed quickly and made her way to the quidditch pitch.

For a second Harriet wondered why she expected the pitch to be empty, in a castle of more than two thousand.

He looked windswept, a flush of healthy red that adorned his usually pale cheeks, his lips thinned.

“A seekers match Potter?”

In the faint red of the early morning sun she could barely catch the glimpse of the snitch’s wings.

“Sure” She said instead and caught the faint uptick of his lips.

It was exhilarating to rise to the skies again, the wind whipping past her skin and the chillness that permeated all.

“You know Potter” she could hear “I never did believe the stories that you’ve never ridden a broom before first year”

His eyes closed, face upturned towards the skies.

For a moment she lost her breath, his face was pointed, too sharp even. The high rise of his cheekbones, the sharp cut of his chin, the paleness of his eyelashes, she couldn’t tell if he was handsome, he did look ethereal though.

He turned at looked at her “were they lying?”

“About what?”

“About your past Potter” He looked as if the answer mattered. Rita Skeeter had published the book after all, the suburban upbringing amongst unimaginative muggles, her tiny bedroom, and muggles that surrounded her.

She smiled.

There was a part that wished that was all, the worst they could do was to push ordinariness upon her, make her indistinguishable.

“There is no tragic sob story Malfoy, I did never ride a broom before Hogwarts”

He laughed “that is the tragic sob story Potter”

Between them they had managed some sort of game, before the sun rose completely and the castle reluctantly woke up.

“We should get going” she said eventually.

The tentative warmth of early dawn had morphed into heavier rays and sweat clinging on uncomfortably; she must look like a sight she thought vaguely. Windswept and red face, post Quidditch was never a good look for her.

Malfoy looked tastefully disarrayed, strands of his hair fell onto his face flushed pale pink.

She wanted to speak to him, about what had happened between them, maybe even apologize for petrifying him.

“Malfoy” She called him back before realizing it

He looked confused “the diricawl egg” she said instead “you have it”

He looked momentarily confused before nodding.

“I will bring it over, tonight?”

“Astronomy tower” she said and blushed when she remember why people usually met there late at night.

Malfoy looked nonplussed “Don’t get caught Potter”

 ...

It was Ron who noticed first, “why are you so cheerful?”

The smile slid off her face as she looked at a pleasantly enquiring Ron.

She had forgotten.

How could she have forgotten, about Ron who hated Malfoy, Ron who spent most of his school years tormented by Malfoy and his friends, with Ron whom she was tentatively rebuilding her friendship.

“No one” she said and smiled “I just flew around a bit in the morning”

Hermione was casting sly looks, seemingly engrossed in her toast her marmalade.

“You should have called me”

“I thought you might be sleeping”

Harry wanted to say something more, other than the fact that the tension seems to be chocking her as well. There is no easy camaraderie, no comfortable silences to fall back into.

When she looked straight she could see Draco, he sits facing her, spine straight, spooning his porridge that looked untouched.

He looked grim.

“we could play”

Ron smiled “in the evening?”

She agreed, even though on most days the pitch was full, of overjoyed eighth years in the palpable relief that the war was over. The games were loud, boisterous and noisy, the thought of it made her cringe.

“We should” she said instead.

..

 

It was like she was carrying some secret the entire day, she couldn't help the sudden smiles, or the nervous flutter of anticipation that followed her.

“Are you listening Harry?”Hermione looked irritated.

“I am sorry”

She tried her best to pay attention; the Eighth year syllabus was back breaking to say the least. Yet her mind kept drifting back to their planned meeting, she felt silly, like she was over examining a simple situation.

‘He did kiss you’ her mind helpfully provided, she ducked further into the book to prevent others from seeing her blush, ‘but it was war’ her other half said.

She was surprised when her wand buzzed against her holster, it was midnight already.

She wondered what excuse she would be able to give, to leave abruptly.

She yawned and stretched “I think i am going to take a walk”

Hermione looked up at her “At midnight?” and Ron’s “Oh I will come as well” put in her a bit of a jam.

“Sorry Ron, invisibility cloak barely fits just me” she said instead, after all Ron was much easier to answer that Hermione and snuck out pretending that she didn’t hear “do you carry that around always?”

The castle seemed unnaturally quiet as she slowly found her way into the astronomy tower without getting caught.

Malfoy was sitting,  back against the wall and head tilted up staring the night sky.

“For someone with an invisibility cloak you are awfully loud Potter”

“I could be a ghost”

“Ghosts are a lot quieter” It was strange to see his tell tale smirk take a lighter tone as she sat next to him.

“You come here often?”

“Not as often as I would like”

She rolled her eyes at him and saw that the Diricawl egg was now carefully wrapped in a blue blanket. It was warm to touch.

“It even has unbreakable charm on it” He looked proud saying that, and she couldn’t help but feel a little amused at that.

“It’s very soft” she said instead, her fingers running through the materiel. She gathered the egg in her lap, it felt like a warm comforting weight on her lap.

“Are you going to visit Theodore?” It took her a few seconds to recall that it was Teddy her meant “Yes I will visit Teddy this weekend”

He scrunched his nose in distaste “Teddy is going to be an awful nickname when he grows up”

“He is not yet”

“He will be soon enough”

She recalled the conversation with Andromeda when she first met Teddy, the tiny pink baby that she was so afraid to drop.

“Can you please teach me how to hold him?” She asked, when Hermione and Ginny were cooing at the baby. Andromeda looked surprised, “and feeding” she added watching the tiny mouth latch on to the baby bottle hungrily.

“Are you going to take him away now” Andromeda joked, but something about the darkness in her eyes.

“Sirius was my godfather” was all she said, maybe some years into the future she could take his name without choking up, without remembering that he had sacrificed his life for her foolish mistakes.

“you make a cradle out of your arm” she said instead, “balance the head, he can’t hold it up yet” And she held the soft fragile baby for the first time.

“Not too soon” she intoned “I want to be around for more of it”

“Me too” he said and they sat together in their silent solidarity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a slow build story, do let me know if there is anything in this fic that you like or dislike or would like to see more of.


	7. Chapter 7

 

Draco woke up in cold sweat and the distant echo of his mother’s screams ringing in his ears vividly. He wanted to rush down the hallway and make sure that it was a dream; it was when he stepped on the cold stone floor of his dorm that he remembered he had made the foolish decision of returning to Hogwarts and flopped back into bed ungraciously.

The dorm was still too dark and too cold for him to get off his bed. There was the kind of bone tiredness that crept up, like on most days he didn’t want to get up, walk, hold his head up high. Pansy had come back as well, refused to leave his side, cringing at every harsh word, he felt bad for her, despite how she had acted. He wondered if Harriet felt any differently, if she too harboured ill will, Harriet who looked weary and grown up, who looked like she was still fighting a war.

Draco repressed the urge to groan loudly, he had to stop thinking about Potter. Their shared project had pulled them together yet again. Sometimes he felt that he was a fraud that while claiming to hate Potter he wanted her attention, was in her orbit constantly, any thoughts of pulling away now brought their kiss to the forefront of his memory. How she felt beneath his arms, warm and safe, like a happy ending.

Breakfast was a tedious affair, he had always hated the long trek from the dorms to the Great hall early morning, but post war with hostile looks he had begun to grate and the ordeal even more tiring. His awareness was brought back when he felt someone slam into his shoulders, the shock of this made him stumble and wince in pain.

He looked back to the stocky Rawenclaw who looked ready to pick a fight, he felt someone else wind their arms around his and tug, “let it go Draco”

Pansy continued her conversation like she hadn’t stopped a fight “Yea let your girlfriend drag you away Malfoy, hide like you always have”

The only recognition that Pansy gave was that the grip on his arm significantly tightened; anyway mother says “France has a much better programme for internships, fashion capital after all”

“Also the hope that Parkinson name isn’t automatically associated with death eaters”

She smoothens down her frown with practised ease and continues, “and I do have an aunt living there”

He admires her restraint, the first couple of fights he had in Hogwarts hadn’t ended well for him and Pansy’s fast diminishing supplies of murtlap essence had spurred her into action.

“So you are leaving then?”

She looks at him amused “will you miss me too much then?”

Draco allows to small smile to tug at the edge of his lips, he feels better around her more human , “You still have a château there don’t you, or does the ministry have its claws there too”

It is an unpleasant reminder about the ministry’s desperate bid to raise money, in the name of reparation and from the Malfoy trial where most of his assets were frozen.

“Not the first time the Malfoy’s have been in the wrong side of the law” his father had said with an inkling of pride and his mother’s smile brittle. The assets in his name could not be seized, nor would be the stashes of money off the country or strangely in muggle accounts. He refuses to think of their origin, or even the fact that his family is comically villainous.

“It’s in my mother’s maiden name” he said instead.

No one attempts to make idle conversation when he settles down in his usual seat, he remembers a time when the entire section would have been taken up by his year mates, most of them now dead or fled the country.

In another lifetime he wouldn’t have noticed this, but for now he can see a group of sweaty students stumble in, in makeshift quidditch gear and raucous laughter. Boy Weasley has his arms around her shoulder and Potter’s hair in a messy pony tail, she looks bright eyed and smiling, like out of a photo montage of perfect Griffyndors.  He knows he’s being petty, but the toast feels like ashes in his mouth and he feels angry.

...

Draco is surprised to see Blaise and Pansy together, Blaise looking cool and unaffected his eyes fixed on Pansy and she tugging back an errant lock of hair. He should have been happy after all his two friends had found each other in troubled times, except all he could feel was anger.

“oh so that’s why I never see both of you around” any attempts at light-hearted conversation was promptly destroyed by the tone of his voice. Pansy stepped back surprised and Blaise’s eyes narrow “no that’s because you can’t seem to tear your eyes away from Potter”

“Has the war changed it all Malfoy? Is panting over a filthy half-blood acceptable now that they’ve won the war?”

The gaggle of rushing third years put an end to whatever curse lingered at the tip of Draco’s tongue, Pansy stood straight back glaring at him “don’t think we haven’t noticed Draco, you are the only one with a testimony from the great savoir herself”

The worst part of it was that it was true, their relationship would be inevitably marked by that taint, the fact that they had never been on the same side of the war. He stormed away because that was the only thing he could do.

 

“Ms. Potter you are well aware of the fact that we cannot possibly allow this” McGonagall had a look that conveyed clear disapproval, Mr. Hollaway the temporary ministry approved Gryffindor head did not share the same confidence.

“They are all majors mam” she amended earning a harsh glare from McGonagall

“Do you really think it is a good idea Ms. Potter? Half of the death eaters have still not been captured”

Harriet nodded “I am sure I will be safe mam, but considering the circumstance I do not want to be absent for Teddy’s first birthday”

It seemed just like yesterday that Harriet saw the tiny baby boy held in Andromeda’s hands for the first time, the tiny pink baby that could barely hold his head up. But now between rebuilding Hogwarts and coming to school, a year had passed and Harriet did not want to be absent for such a landmark moment in his Godson’s life.

“But travelling alone would be extremely dangerous”

“That is what I wanted to talk about, I wanted to ask if Draco would be given permission as well”

“Mr. Malfoy?” the headmistress’s lips thinned, Harriet knew that despite Draco’s involvement in the rebuilding effort McGonagall would still remember the spoiled boy who sneered in her classes, Harriet couldn’t help but wonder if anyone could see anything different.

“Is that a good idea?” it was Mr. Halloway who interjected “I mean Mr. Malfoy is a known death-eater”

“Not Draco Malfoy Mr. Halloway” the headmistress interjected before he spoke any further “Draco was clearly on Harriet’s side in the war” Harriet could have sworn there was a knowing look in her eyes.

Despite her conviction on the matter she wasn’t sure that she would have acquired the requisite permission slip. She felt light headed, she was sure Draco would be thrilled too, especially considering how upset he seemed to be. She wished that circumstances were different, yet her heart clenched at his deepening dark circles, the constant anti-Slytherin tirade that she heard from even her house-mates.  

Outside, in the corridor she finally let a whoop of joy at procuring the slip begrudgingly given. She had understood that given the circumstance why the headmistress had been so reluctant to hand over the permission slip, but missing Teddy’s birthday seemed a greater loss.

It was easy to see Draco’s white blonde hair from a distance, in a familiar gaggle of Slytherin students, “Draco”

“What s it Potter?”

She had held up the pass to him “I got the permission from Professor McGonagall; we can leave Hogwarts for Teddy’s birthday”

Harriet couldn’t quite read the expression that passed through Draco’s eyes before it hardened, “What do you want Potter?”

It was the animosity in Draco’s voice that made other students stop and stare, she could feel that it wasn’t going the way she expected it to go.

“Hurry up Draco” she was surprised to see an unfamiliar blonde looking impatient behind Draco, Harriet could feel her throat dry up.

“I got the permission slip, to leave Hogwarts for Teddy’s birthday”

She could see fellow Slytherin’s stopping and staring, “I don’t need favours from you”

“It’s not a favour Draco I was doing it for my Godson”

Draco looked bored “I don’t thing Theodore is going to remember his first birthday in any case Potter” he walked away before Harriet could reply with anything suitable, the worst bit was that she felt outwitted and foolish standing there with the permission slip biting into her palms.

She didn’t bother talking to anyone else as she stepped out into the bright sun and apparated away from Hogwarts.  
 


End file.
